


Virtue Revealed

by GeminiLoveCA



Series: Virtue [4]
Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5046937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiLoveCA/pseuds/GeminiLoveCA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All her secrets unravel... one by one...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virtue Revealed

I kept the dosage small. I wanted them both weak, not dead. Not yet.

As Lucille had reminded me, Edith had only gained a portion of her father’s estate. There were still documents to be signed that settled the final sum. It would be a race, to see on whose side time would out. Edith was holding out on the final signatures, claiming she wanted Thomas away from the house, from my influence and Lucille’s, to see if he truly loved her, before she gave him control of any real funds. I allowed it, mostly for my own amusement. Death grants one a certain amount of patience.

Walking the hallways, I found Edith going through Lady Beatrice’s escritoire, attempting to open a drawer with the duplicate keys Thomas had made for her in town. “What are you doing?”

She jumped at the interruption, spinning with a hand clutched to her chest, her frame wavering. Despite her determination to find my remains and set Thomas free of me, my brew was doing its work. “Oh, Lucille! I just know something’s to be found in here. It’s the only place Thomas and I have not looked.”

“There’s nothing in there. That desk hasn’t been opened since La- since Mother died. Surely you’re not suggesting she covered up a violent death in her own home?” Lucille’s and my voice blended almost seamlessly, our mutual unwillingness to see the desk opened making our combined voice acerbic.

“Well, there’s no harm in looking. And even if not, perhaps there’s some memento of your childhood?”

Lucille pushed me aside mentally to add her own comment. “Mother was hardly sentimental when it came to her children.” I allowed it. Lucille was nothing if not honest. Lady Beatrice had many opinions and emotions, but affection had not been one.

“Oh, well, it’s still a lovely piece. It should be getting some use.” Edith continued trying key after key, until the mechanism gave with a grating sound, and the rolling top relaxed slightly, making her smile brightly with triumph. “There we are.”

Dread and apprehension settled over both of us as she pushed up the top. “Stay out of there,” we warned.

Lady Beatrice’s letters and pen lay exactly as they had when she closed the desk many years before. The sight of her perfect, slanted script made me want to shriek and rend the room asunder. “Edith, let Thomas do this. It’s not yours to examine.”

“Nonsense. Thomas promised me there would be no further secrets in our marriage, as a way to help mend things between us.” Edith settled in the chair, examining each paper by tilting it to the light. Her posture set us both full of dread. Pushing the letters aside, she came across a set of photographic images, bound together in common household string.

“Stop it, Edith. I’m quite serious.”

“Enough, Lucille. Really… it’s just some old…” Edith stopped. Her breath stoppered up in her throat as she went through the stack. “Oh, that’s her, isn’t it? When she was alive…” She looked up at me, “He loved her, didn’t he?”

I didn’t have to look. I knew what the photograph was. I remembered how it had felt striking me in the face, the indignation in Lady Beatrice’s eyes when Thomas and I had told her…

Mired in my own memory, Lucille took up control momentarily, her voice softened with her own remembrance of times past. “He wanted to marry her. Mother wouldn’t allow it. She sent him away to university as a means to separate them. They were never the same after he returned home.”

Scandalous. Trollop. Common. Even now, I could hear that wicked old wretch’s voice ringing in my ears and I wanted to cover them to block out the sound. How could her son marry a half-Scottish bit of nothing! My vulgar blood staining their line?

“Oh. Oh, yes. I suppose that would make a strong reason for her spirit to remain here.” Edith flipped through the remaining photographs until I saw her look at me. “Is this Thomas as a baby?” she asked, holding up the image.

The world spun before my eyes, and I could feel the pressure of Lucille’s confusion and curiosity pushing me aside. Everything was akimbo. This could not happen. I grabbed for the edge of the escritoire, felt the cold edge of the letter opener in my hand. “I said to stay out of these!”

Edith screamed, jumping back in time for the letter opener to slash her palm, her blood spattering over the wood and the now-scattered documents.

“Lucille! What’s gotten into you?” Thomas dashed into the room as I surged forward once more, intent on nothing so much as returning Edith’s favor.

I looked at him. “She has to stop meddling!”

He shook us, grappling the opener away. “You must stop this, Lucille.”

“Thomas…. I don’t believe that is Lucille.”

The comment stopped him cold, and he grasped our forearms tightly, peering at our face. Knowing I must give up the charade, at least temporarily, I grinned at him. “Hello, Sir.” Edith screamed and I exited Lucille’s body in a rush, letting her collapse limply into Thomas’s arms. I zoomed upward, invisible, and hid among the rafters. Under the weight of his sister’s insensate form, Thomas crumpled to the floor, cradling Lucille gently. Edith scrambled for the letter opener, swinging it in front of her. I wanted to laugh – the silly chit hadn’t learned the first time that a blade could do me no real harm.

~~~

I hated having to give up Lucille’s body. As she admitted, the sensation of being combined had become addictive. To be alive once more had been thrilling. Food had flavor, the wine and brandy a headiness I had long forgotten. The sensation of snow upon my face, of fingers touching flesh… And the connection to another soul! So delightful, so gratifying… each of us so desperately alone and longing for my beloved Sir in our own ways, to take each other as some form of surrogate…

Allowing my deception to be known hampered my efforts only in the short term. Lucille, of course, played the unwitting victim to perfection, tearfully admitting to the wedded pair that she had been trapped within her own body, helpless to do anything but watch as I had moved about the house without impediment.

They forgave her, of course. How could they not? Though, each time she entered a room, they eyed her with suspicion. Edith would eat or drink nothing Lucille prepared unless she and Thomas consumed some first. They were so easy to fool. How did they never notice that Lucille always took her portion from the left side of the porridge pot or that her tea cup never seemed to get truly empty?

Still, Lucille had questions of her own and it was forcing me to provide information I did not wish. I gave it, but only because I needed her to get back the photographs which Edith had in her possession. Thomas must never see them, I warned her. Not ever. My explanation had pained her, but she agreed.

The obvious place for my body to have been hidden was in the portion of the mine that lay directly beneath the house. The clay pits were deep and any attempt to dig them out met with meager success, often sucking in tools and staining clothing without any yield for the effort. It was while Thomas was mucking about in the pits, Edith clinging to his side that I went on my own search of the house.

The howling winds outside covered the sound of the elevator, which was why I was caught nearly elbow deep in Edith’s trunk. “Lucille! What are you doing in my things?”

The pair clung to each other, and it was clear that my plan was working. They were both exhausted, their skin so like parchment, except where Thomas was red with exertion and streaks of clay. Edith was all but strained to support him and herself, though he seemed to be trying to stand alone.

“The photographs. Virtue seemed so insistent upon you never handling them, Edith. I thought perhaps that is part of the hold this house has upon her. I thought if I could find them, remove them from the premises, then perhaps…” I sniffled. “Perhaps you both might finally trust me again.”

“Oh, Lucille… Of course. We want to trust you…” Edith opened a hatbox and retrieved the bundle of photographs. “Do whatever you must with them, if it will provide us all some measure of peace.”

At least! I wanted to crow my victory, but fought my own nature, taking the bundle of photographs in my hands instead of clutching to my breast as my rampant heart desired. “Thank you. There is a great deal of family history to these. I’ve no wish to see them destroyed. We have a distant cousin, moved to Marseille. I will mail them to her directly in the hope that is sufficient distance.”

Back in Lucille’s room, I could feel the pressure of her curiosity at the back of my mind, and I fought to push her down, to keep her subdued at least a measure longer. At her desk, I untied the stack and reviewed them, hoping Edith had not thought to remove the items I needed so desperately. Third down in the stack, I sighed.

Memory assailed me. I recalled that day with such clarity. How handsome my Sir looked! So young and untroubled. He had used some of his inherited funds to purchase me a smart looking traveling dress. The photograph had been a present to ourselves, something to show our children someday – of the day their parents had sneaked away to Edinburgh, to procure their special license. Lucille’s hands trembled with my emotions as I reached out to trace over my Sir’s jet curls. My vision blurred.

“Lucille?” Thomas knocked at the door briefly before opening it. His demeanor changed as I hastily wiped away tears. “Whatever in those photographs upset you?” He pulled the bundle from my hands before I could stop him.

I had to school my voice for fear of giving away too much of myself, my loathing and contempt simmering beneath the surface. “I was just remembering. I wonder how much different life would have been had Mother not interfered?”

“A great deal, I imagine. I wonder if I’d have killed her for making me a cuckold, or her lover?” His words fell on me like a wall of ice water, and I gasped. He chuckled, “Oh yes. Mother was quite clear in her letters while I was away, detailing how licentious she became in my absence, how every time Mother made to dismiss her, she threatened to discredit the family with lies and embroidered truths.”

“Thomas, no… Surely you don’t believe that…”

“What shall I believe? I have only the testimony of two dead women!”

“And what of mine?”

He straightened. “You were not here for the full duration. Mother sent you away as well.”

“I was here enough. Vir-“ His rising hand cut me off, and I amended myself, knowing he refused to hear my name spoken aloud, especially now. “She loved you. She was ever true to that.”

The photograph fell into my lap. “Give up Lucille’s body, Virtue. Now.”

Damn me, he was getting better. I raised one fine brow at him, “What gave me away, Sir?”

“Your steadfast protestations of innocence. Lucille would not have defended you half so determinedly.”

“She likes me here. I rather like it here too,” I picked up the photograph from my lap, placing it back on the stack on the desk. “I have no plans to leave just yet.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture I knew he reserved for when his frustration reached a near unbearable level. “What will it take to get you gone?”

I rose, lifting on my tiptoes until Lucille’s face was a breath from his own. “I will never leave Crimson Peak.”

He shoved us back, the action knocking away my control momentarily, too stunned that he would risk injuring his sister to strike at me. “Give my sister back, you wretch!”

I snatched up the letter opener, holding it to our throat. “A wretch? Was I such a wretch when you wanted me for a wife? Tell me, Thomas, when did I become too low to warm your bed? Ah… no closer, Sir. I would hate for Lucille to get hurt…”

He held his hands up in surrender. “You would not…”

“I would. I have been nothing but faithful from that first night, Thomas.” I spat his name as if it sickened me. “I gave you all that was mine to give you, and this is how you repay me. Beat me, whore me out, degrade me! Perhaps now, I ought to take something back.” I pulled the edge closer, grinning as I felt the sting upon my pulse point.

“If you harm her, I will burn these photographs.” He snatched them up, waving them at me.

“Foolish man, you really think a bit of paper and chemical keeps me bound here?”

“Then you should hardly miss them.” He pulled one from the stack and held it above the flame of the lamp. Seeing what image it was, I screamed, rushing forward to stop him, dropping the letter opener in my haste.

He arched away, keeping the photograph from our grasp. “I knew these had some value to you. What could it be?” He twisted us in his grasp, holding us tightly around the waist as we struggled to get free. I felt him still, the arm around our waist going slack. “No…”

Falling to our knees, I took the photograph from him as it fell from limp fingers, clutching it to our chest. My sobs drowned out his footfalls as he retreated. I forgot the weakness of flesh and bone and wept Lucille’s body to exhaustion.

~~~

After my last outburst, Lucille refused to allow me entry. I tried to overwhelm her, but was too weak to maintain control without her assistance. Without a body, I was forced to sit in silence, invisible, and watch them reveal my secrets at last.

“Did you know, Lucille?”

I watched her raise weary eyes to her brother. “What is it that I should know?” He placed the photograph down in front of her. She turned it over with trembling hands, reading their mother’s handwriting across the back. “No, it’s impossible…”

“This was Mother, after all.”

Lucille pursed her lips, “She was formidable… It would have been near impossible to keep secret. Yet…”

Thomas sat down at her side, “What is it?”

“We were both called home for her funeral. Did you notice that almost all the staff had been replaced?”

“I barely recall. Everything then was in such turmoil. I was hardly ready to take over the household, nor were you.”

“Virtue was the only one on the staff who remained the same…”

Thomas shot her a look at the mention of my name, sighing wearily. “If she spoke the truth to me, she was already dead then.”

“There is only one way to know.” Lucille laid her hands upon the chair arms. “Find something to bind my wrists.”

“No… you cannot risk it.”

“Do we have another choice?” She stiffened in the chair, calling my name. “I’ll not fight you anymore, Virtue. Come here, please. I miss your presence…”

The calling pulled me closer, drifting until I settled over her frame. Warmth suffused me once more, and I breathed deeply, opening my eyes to look now at my Sir. “Hello, Sir.”

Thomas held the photograph before our face. “Tell me about this, Virtue.”

I turned our head aside. “I don’t want to recall that.”

His grip on our chin was tight, forcing me to look at him fully. “Do it anyway.”

So focused was he on us, that he did not see Edith enter the room. I did, from the corner of our gaze. “It will not change matters.”

“It matters to me!” He held the photo closer. “Is this my son?” he demanded. Edith’s gasp of shock did not deter him. “Tell me!”

“Yes!” I felt tears prick my eyes. I wanted out of this body, but somehow, in some way, instead of fighting to keep me out, Lucille was now fighting to retain me, trapping me in her body, in this chair, until I gave them what they desired. It was agony of the worst sort, all memory flooding over me in a great, sweeping wave, pulling me under, forcing me to see and feel it all again as I had the first time.

I struggled against the chair, pulling at the bonds, but Thomas had tied them fast. “William, my poor William…”

“How did he die? Did you murder him?”

“NO!” How dare he? The implication of it… Seething blinding fury came over me and I tore us from the chair, unable to feel any physical pains for the torment in my soul. “SHE DID!”

A reedy wail echoed through the house. This one was not mine.


End file.
